A heartbeat passed.
“I’d have to agree with you on that point.”
He concentrated on getting her foot cleaned and bandaged but had to wonder about all the other things that were still the same. And maybe a few that had changed.
And then his mood darkened, because really, what was the point in wondering about something he would never know?
Chapter Six
* * *
If Donovan was an actress, she’d be up for an Oscar because she’d just given the performance of a lifetime. Hell, Julia Roberts had nothing on her.
She’d let Jack put his hands on her. PUT HIS HANDS ON HER. And she hadn’t given anything away.
Like the fact that inside her body was screaming. Inside, she was a massive ball of goo, all limp and hot and needy. Inside, the ache that had been dormant for so long was now a raging fire, inching across her skin leaving goose bumps in its wake.
She’d kept her eyes glued to the floor as his large hand enveloped her foot and was proud of the fact that she didn’t tremble and the whimper caught in her throat, stayed there, hidden like a secret.
Jack held her gently, cleaning the bottom of her heel and arch with precision and then bandaging it up like a pro. When he was done, he’d leaned back on his haunches, his dark eyes trained on her for a few seconds as if waiting for her to say something.
But there was nothing. Her throat was still tight, and she needed more time.
Carefully he got to his feet, standing above her, and as always, she felt small and vulnerable.
“Thanks,” she managed to say.
“No problem.”
He moved away from her, and she couldn’t help it, with his focus on the house, she drank him in like a tall glass of cold water. His hair, still wet from the rain, curled in the humidity, giving a boyish look to features that were wholly masculine. He hadn’t shaved in a few days—what was it about that look that drove her crazy? And with a dry mouth, she wandered lower.
His T-shirt was wet and clung to a body that looked like it belonged to an athlete, not a politician. Jack had grown up on the water, was an active boater, water skier, and as with all the Simon boys, he enjoyed sports to the extreme. She knew he was a hell of a football player, dabbled in hockey, and that he probably could have pursued baseball like his brother Beau.
His cargoes were slung low, weighed down from the rain and when he ran his hands across his head, she caught a glimpse of flat, golden skin and a dusting of hair that disappeared beneath the waistband.
His long legs were runner’s legs, muscular without being overly bulky, and they were as delicious as the rest of him.
“I’m gonna grab that beer now,” he said turning to her just as she dropped her eyes to the floor once more. There was a finality to his voice. An acceptance of the way it was going to be.
For a moment, Donovan didn’t know what to say. Three days with Jack Simon? Was it even possible for her to survive that? Did she have a choice?
“Okay,” she finally said. “You can take the bedroom on the left and if we both ignore each other, I’m sure we can get through this.”
That had been nearly twelve hours ago, and she hadn’t seen him since she’d hobbled past him and disappeared into her own room. The one right across the hall from Jack.
Donovan pushed her large Gucci sunglasses up a bit and grabbed the book she’d brought down to the beach. It was another gorgeous day and the breeze across the sea lifted little white caps on the turquoise water. Seagulls flew overhead, and the wind in the palm trees that lined the beach was like a whisper in her ear. It was a little slice of heaven, even though at the moment, it felt more like hell.
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Donovan wished she was anywhere but here.
She was grumpy because she’d hardly slept and though she’d like to blame that on the state of her foot, she knew it was a lie. Hello. Jack was right across the goddamn hall!
And dammit, she was hungry. Up early, she was about to forage for chocolate and chips (considering the circumstance, was it any wonder it was all she wanted?) but when she heard movement from Jack’s room, Donovan grabbed her book, towel and sunscreen and left the guest house in under ten seconds.
And now the inevitable was happening.
He’d invaded her beach.